


The Strong One

by polaropposites



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 13:35:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polaropposites/pseuds/polaropposites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis always has to keep it together and eventually he knows it's all going to come down. When it does, he really doesn't know what to do. A snapshot of little things pulling at his threads until he unravels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Strong One

It’s always the strong ones you have to worry about. The ones who always throw on a brave face and work through the pain. They never have an outlet. The pain just sinks in, penetrating every single layer of tissue and muscle, until it’s at their core. 

They are easy to forget about. No one ever stops to think if their feelings are hurt because they’re the strong one and they always keep it together. Instead, everyone focuses on the one with their heart on their sleeve. The weak one with pain written across their face and movements. They baby them, ask them if everything’s okay, walk on eggshells, because they’re bound to break sometime right?

Wrong. Always wrong.

 

Louis knew this was wrong with every fiber of his being. Harry had his heart on his sleeve. Hell, Harry had his heart on his forehead, chest, wrists, biceps, legs; he had his emotions written boldly across his body. He didn’t ever have to be tense because he was venting his emotions whether it was with another tattoo, a smartass comment, or tears. 

Louis on the other hand waited for the moment he would break. It wasn’t that he bent until he broke, it was that he become so stiff, so solid from his held in emotions, that one sharp blow was all it took to have him shattering into a million pieces. The strong one couldn’t be strong anymore. 

Two years of pain, two years of love, two years of being flung in so many different directions Louis wasn’t even sure which way was up anymore. Every day he was a little more suffocated by his reality. Wake up, lie, eat breakfast, lie, shower, lie, lie, lie, lie, sing, lie, love Harry, lie, lunch, lie, dinner, lie, lie,lie,lie,lie,lie, sleep. 

He had been lying to Harry for the longest, telling him that he was fine, okay, doing well, happy. Harry made him happy, but Eleanor, management, interviews, lies, twitter, fans, all stole that from him bit by bit. Louis was losing himself in the crowd of lies that he had to tell. When he stared in the mirror he wasn’t sure who stared back because Louis Tomlinson from Doncaster was never spineless. He was never a coward. He was never weak. He never backed down from something because someone told him it wasn’t okay.

But this was the exception. Loving Harry was the exception. 

Now he had to lie, hide, and run away. Louis often compared himself to a roach. He got to come out in the night and live freely, well sometimes, in the comfort of his own home when no one but Harry could see, but as soon as the lights came up he had to hide for his own wellbeing. Well, at least that’s what they told him.

They told him that the lies were to protect them, to protect their relationship, to keep them happy. Louis, new to the industry and as bright eyed as Harry, accepted blindly. It hurt to think that in some way the love that he had for Harry was detrimental. He wasn’t willing to give it up, but he’d tuck it away to make sure they all achieved their dream.

Two years later and he would do it all over again, but it has taken its toll. Eleanor was nice, she really was, but everything that involved her seemed to mean that he had to shoot himself in the foot or Harry in the heart. It was exhausting. There were so many dates that he came home from where he had to gather Harry in his arms and remind him that she was nothing. There were vacations he came back from where he just wanted to lay in bed with Harry for the next year to get the stench of her perfume off of his body, but Harry wouldn’t be there. Because eventually sadness turned to anger and Harry resented Louis for leaving him.

But he had no choice, he never had a choice. Those were the words he usually sobbed into the pillow after he scrubbed his skin raw in the shower, trying to feel less dirty. Louis always felt dirty, the lies felt like a layer of mud that had been caked on, and he could never get it off. With every fake kiss and every time he had to hold her hand, black seemed to stain his soul. He’d been tainted.

After the tweets, Harry didn’t touch Louis for a week, not intimately at least. Louis noticed. Louis always noticed when Harry pulled away because it always happened to be when Louis needed him the most. He never quite thought it was fair that Harry got to collapse into his arms with every pain he felt, but he left Louis alone to cuddle with pillows in their empty bed as he ran off to find some way to cover the pain. 

Harry found Nick, radio, parties, hipsters, new bands, picnics, and tattoos to hide the pain. Louis found darkness. Louis found rolling over in the middle of the night to feel that the other side of the bed was empty and cold. Louis found that he had lost his light in the darkest hour of his night. 

He had been tainted even more, now people thought he was some sort of teenage bashing arse who had so many insecurities in his heterosexual relationship that he went on rants using social networking sites. This new image, couldn’t be farther from the truth, but he bowed and graciously accepted the criticism.

Because they’d pull out in the end, right? 

The morning of Alan Carr, Louis didn’t answer the phone for Nick. For once, he decided if they were going to depict him as a massive arsehole, he was going to be one. He threw on his clothes and didn’t bother with the lies. When harry came strolling in from wherever he spent the night, Louis didn’t hide the sneer. When Harry asked him if he was okay, he told him that he hadn’t been okay for a really long time. 

Louis was tired of lying before breakfast, so he chose not to. When Niall rang the bell to their flat so they could go out, he took in Louis and shrugged before he pulled him into a hug. 

That was the first punch.

Louis piled into the van and sat close to a window, muttering hellos to the other lads and Paul. He expected harry to sit next to him, but as the younger lad came close, Liam pushed him to the side claiming that he needed some Lou time and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. 

That was the second punch. 

When they arrived at the building, Louis was the last out the car, as Liam had pulled him into an awkward side hug before jumping out himself. Louis leaped out the car and started walking, but slender fingers wrapped themselves around his shoulder and turned him around. Zayn asked him to stay outside to keep him company as he smoked. Louis obliged and the silence said more than either of them could with words. Zayn finished his cigarette and they made their way towards the studio, but before ears could intrude, Zayn whispered something about how even the most fortified castles fell sometimes.

That was the third punch. 

Louis sprinted towards the bathroom to compose himself. He felt the pieces falling apart and staring into the mirror wasn’t making it any easier. Before when he looked in the mirror, he couldn’t tell who he was, but for some reason today he could. It appeared that his soul had decided to come out and rest on his skin because he could see every bruise from every blow he had ever taken. He saw every cut for every time he thought he wasn’t worth anything. He saw the tally marks of all the times he was afraid Harry was going to leave. Most importantly, he saw his heart, scarred, charred, but still beating. He was reminded he was human and 20 and lonely.

That was the forth punch. 

He washed his hands and tucked it all away, hiding his soul in the creases of his body, under his shirt, back beneath his skin. Louis strolled into hair and make up, chatting with Lou for the first time in weeks. He loved her really, but between her and Lux, they brought the shield down and he couldn’t last through that. She made him want to talk, so he did, about everything, but nothing. When he was done, she gave him a maternal smile that made his stomach clench, but this time, he didn’t take the blow. He had to go on stage, so he couldn’t feel that one. 

They all went through the process, one by one, chatting with each other to keep the tension down. The music started to play once they were all done and for another interview Louis found himself flush up against Harry on a couch. Management was okay with this, they figured that the fire had been put out, so they could sit next to each other. The presented the information as if it was a gift, like it wasn’t something that most people were allowed to do. Harry had left again that night. Louis stared at the ceiling. 

Alan broke him out of his reverie. He heard Larry and froze, but then remembered his relationship, however broken, depending on his acting skills. Louis smiled and listened intently as Alan summarized what appeared to be a lash out against his best friend, lover, and their fans. Louis answered the best he could, trying not to shiver when he felt Harry pull away even though his body was pressed right up against his. Harry withdrew emotionally and stared at the floor, ignoring the gaping wounds Louis had all over his body. 

Denying was the worst part; implying and even saying, that the one thing he’s lost himself too, isn’t real — that what he’s sacrificed everything for, doesn’t mean a thing. There were more questions and Louis struggled through them, focusing too hard on trying to remember how to breathe and hold in tears. They danced, they talked about the album, and they said goodbye. Alan gave him a look, as he walked off the stage, full of pity and admiration.

That was the final punch. 

He stepped off the stage, walked into the dressing room, and shattered. He fell apart and as he was about to collapse to the ground someone caught him, but it didn’t feel like Harry so the sobs came even harder because he needed his boyfriend so much and he was there and not there all at once. 

Then he felt more arms wrap around him and still couldn’t find that smell that made him think of home, so his knees gave out and he collapsed to the floor, all of the arms following with him. There were whispers and caresses, none of them felt like Harry. Louis felt abandoned, but he was the strong one, so he took deep breaths and tried to settle. 

The arms pulled away and he watched as Zayn, Liam, and Niall untangled themselves from each other. All of their eyes filled with a pain Louis wasn’t sure he’d seen before. 

“Fuck.fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. I’m so sorry,” Louis whimpered, tears finding their ways back to his eyes because he hurt them and he loved them so much. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to let you down. It’s just been so much and I’m so tired and I’m so lonely. fuck.”

Louis looked down at his hands, wringing them together in hopes that somehow it’ll make the tears stop coming, but it doesn’t. He can feel their thoughts, they all want to say something, but they don’t know what to say. It was Louis, he kept it together. Harry felt and Louis dealt with it, that’s how it worked.

Louis zoned in on himself, trying to avoid the pity. All he could hear were his shallow breaths. He felt like he had run a marathon and he was so tired. He was so focused on piecing himself back together, he didn’t notice that Harry came into the room and barked out a command to the other lads that left them alone in the room. 

Louis is startled out of his reverie as Harry grabs his hands. He opens his eyes to see the familiar green ones surrounded by red rims. 

“I’m shit. I’m a piece of shit and I’m so sorry,” Harry whispered, tracing his fingers over Louis’ palms. “I’m a weak piece of shit and I left you to hold up our world on your shoulders. I didn’t even offer to help. I’m so sorry and I don’t know how you can love such a coward. I don’t know how you love me when I run from everything. You fight back, you’ve always fought back, but I’ve taken to sprinting in the opposite direction of our problems because I’m a selfish twat and depend on you to handle them all.”

“It’s hard,” Louis confessed. “I can’t do it anymore. I can’t do this alone, Haz. You leave every night and every night I need you because this hurts and I’m breaking and you’re the only one who can fix me, but you’re never there. You’re never there when I need you.”

Harry’s choked back sob filled the room with sound. Louis reached out and ran his palm down Harry’s cheek, telling him that it’s okay.

“Stop. Stop. Don’t comfort me. You’ve done enough of that. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I’ve hurt you so much. I’m such an idiot. I don’t know what I’d do without you Lou. I really don’t. I don’t know how I’d live and you’re supposed to protect things that mean so much to you, but I don’t know how to be strong. All I want to do is go out there and tell everyone I love you, but I can’t, so I’ve turned into a fucking arse and I’ve abandoned you because I thought you agreed and I’ve been so blind because you’ve just been protecting us and protecting me.”

“I don’t want this any more than you do. I love you. I have no problem with loving you. I have always loved you Harry. I loved you before I even knew who you were because you were everything I dreamed about finding. I would die to protect you. I would do anything to keep you safe, but I can’t do everything. I can’t do everything. I can’t go on dates with Eleanor and come home to an empty house. I can’t leave for vacation with her and not have you talk to me. I can’t have you abandon me because each time it feels a little bit more like you leaving and I can’t handle that,” Louis cried, voice faltering. 

Harry pulled Louis into his arms, tangling his fingers in the older lad’s hair.

“I’m not going. I’m not going. I’ll do better. I promise Louis. I promise you I won’t do this to you again. I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how hard it’s been. You’re so strong. My strong, beautiful, boyfriend; I love you so much. I love you. I love you.”

Louis burrowed into Harry’s chest, grateful even more so now that the lad was broader than him. He felt protected and it was just what he needed. Louis knew it wouldn’t turn around quickly. They would have to work at it and he would have to tell Harry when things got too heavy. But now he was focused on the sentiments being whispered into his ears, and the hands roaming over his back, and the way his lips felt against Harry’s. 

The strong one falls apart and the one with his heart on his sleeve repairs him. Louis thinks that maybe, maybe there isn’t a strong one and a weak one. Maybe there are just people in love, who take on the roles that they need to in order to protect their greatest investment. Everyone feels and everyone cries and no one is weak for doing either.


End file.
